Playing The Players
by Gifted.But.Lazy
Summary: What if things had been different in The Other Boleyn Girl? And Henry wasn't as clueless as he was made out to be regarding the Boleyns and Anne? What if he had chosen Mary? Welcome to the start of my Henry and Mary from the Beginning series. Story Beta'd


**Playing The Players**  
**By**  
**Gifted But Lazy**

Story Beta'd by: titans123.

Authors Note: Hi! I'm not sure if there are many Henry/Mary fans out there but I thought I'd give this ago. I've always wondered What if? So this is mostly how I think things COULD have gone in The Other Boleyn Girl.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Tudors or The Other Boleyn Girl!

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**Part 1**

Waiting outside the birthing chamber was torture for Henry.

Part of him wanted to send each member of the Boleyn family, which are waiting outside the chamber with him, to the block. He knew that the only reason they were even there was not because of Mary or the Baby, but because they wanted to know if it was a boy.

If it was a boy they knew their family name would rise and gain closeness to the throne of England and more power than what Henry had already reluctantly given them on false papers.

The other part of him wanted to rush into the birthing chamber and try his best to comfort the woman he loved. With every painful scream she gave it took all of his will power not to run in there and be by her side.

It scared him, the feelings he felt for Mary, the woman he'd grown to love. Since he started pursuing her after the brave Boleyn servant warned him, in advance of the family's plans for Mary, after the first time he singled her out; before even Mary herself new of her family's plans for her.

It scared him because he loved her more than he had ever loved Katherine; it was stronger and more powerful affection. He felt different around Mary, like he could be himself. Whereas around Katherine he'd always be a boy to her; not the man he truly was behind the mask of the King of England.  
**  
**

With Mary it was different. Mary's words to him were true straight from the heart. The first night he slept with her, he asked her if she could love him as a man and if he were a farmer on her father's estate, would she still want him? And when he'd looked into her eyes the depth of compassion he saw in them told him she would never lie to him.**  
**

He could tell the difference between truth and lies. He was lied to nearly every day of the week, month, year. The woman in the birthing chamber giving birth to his son or daughter was pure; pure to the heart and as pure as gold.

Everyone knew he was courting Mary now, but most people within his inner court thought he was supposedly romancing Anne Boleyn the poisonous bitch who was slowly tearing his country apart with every word she spoke.

Even though on his part he was supposedly letting her have free rain, he wasn't. Everything he was letting the Boleyn's have or do would have a price to it at the end.

He hated it and he knew he was hurting Mary, but at least she knew his plans. Mary had opened up to him when he asked for her favour at the joust in the gardens of Eltham Palace that day and he was so glad that he moved them away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers.

Henry knew she felt uncomfortable with her sister Anne watching them that day, so he took her aside, before he went to the Queen and she told him everything she knew.

Henry had been angry, but he'd held it together. He knew it had taken a lot for her to open up to him about her families plans, even though he already new most of it, but hearing it from her confirmed the servants tattle telling was true.

Henry knew she wasn't happy about her family's plans and the reasons behind their using her as bait to gain family interest and high ranking if she won his affection.

Just having an honest person in court won his affection and Mary was pure, fresh, loyal and true to her word. Their affair had started from there and slowly grown into something special.

Henry had his back to the Boleyn's as he stood gazing out of the window, staring at nothing in particular.

Another hour into the ten-hour labour he felt a hand rest on his arm and he glanced down...it was difficult to keep the emotion hidden from his face when he realised the hand belonged to Anne Boleyn. He returned his attention back to gazing out of the window.

The next hour the midwife came out of the birthing chamber. The door creaked open and it sounded louder than it normally would, due to the quiet room he was in.

The midwife opened it wide enough for her head to fit through and she immediately had his full attention, until he heard the cry of a baby.

'Your Majesty?' The mid wife said rather nervously.

Henry looked back to her, and walked forwards realising she wanted to speak with him privately without an audience, _well she's going to have to have one he thought_.

When he reached her, he had his back to the Boleyn's, so he was almost shielding the Midwife from view.

He leaned in and waited till his lips were at her ear.

'What is it? Is everything well in there?' He whispered in a tone so low only she could hear.

'Yes sire, perfectly fine, Mistress Carey and the babies are doing well your Majesty.' She said in an equally low tone.

Something she said caught his attention...

'Babies?' He whispered with a hint of surprise in his voice.

'Yes your Majesty, Mistress Carey gave birth to two babies, a healthy boy and girl.'

His heart filled with hope at the word healthy. Katherine had never given him a healthy son, and his son to Bessie Blount wasn't born healthy either. Maybe this was a sign.

Plus two babies born on the same day by the same mother was unheard of, well he hadn't heard of this.

'The babies are really well and healthy?' He asked just to make sure he'd heard right.

'Yes your Majesty. The boy is doing very well, the little Prince is strong and fine just like his father and the girl is just like her mother.'

_This changed everything._

'Listen to me and listen closely.' Henry leaned in closely now.

'Go bring the guards in from outside of the waiting chambers. No one is to enter this room without my permission; none of the Boleyn's except for Mistress Carey are alllowed to enter.'

'Yes sire.' The midwife said warily.

'Go now and don't breathe a word about the babies. If they ask just tell them mother and baby are well. I don't want them to know I have a son.' Henry ordered. With that they slid past each other, with perfect timing and shut the door before any of the other Boleyn's could get a look in.

When the door closed, Henry's eye searched the birthing chamber and found the most beautiful sight, he'd ever seen. He may have bedded many women in the past, but Mary was different and seeing her like this; hair tumbling down over her right shoulder; head titled downwards; eyes cast down; face flushed from the hard work of labour, made Henry believe she was a Goddess.

He followed her gaze and what he found made him melt. The midwife was correct, Mary had given birth to two babies, _not just one but two_.

Henry slowly made his way over to mother and babies, not wanting to break whatever peaceful spell was cast over them.

Mary never looked up when he first entered the room and she never acknowledged his presence when he sat down carefully on the bed beside her. He tenderly placed his arm around her shoulders and only then did she acknowledge him by leaning into his embrace.

He gazed down at his son and daughter for the first time properly and felt something he'd never felt before, not even with his first child with Katherine. He'd always felt that the Princess Mary was never really his, but his brothers, though he had no proof.

His arm and hand moved of their own accord and touched his son or daughter's little head for the first time. He let his thumb brush over the tuft of blonde hair and he leaned in to kiss each of the babes' cheeks. On close contact he closed his eyes and breathed in their unique baby smells, _heaven._

Why is it that this woman could give him what his own wife and Queen of England plus Superior daughter of Spain couldn't?

Bessie Blount may have given him a living son, but Bessie Blount was next to nobody where as Mary Boleyn was somebody, she is a Boleyn and Howard and Bessie Blount... a nobody compared to Mary.

Henry straightened up and met Mary's eye for the first time; they shone with something new in them, something he couldn't quite put his finger on yet.

Again his body moved of its own accord and he leaned in to capture her lips. He put everything he felt into his kiss. When it came to expressing his feelings Henry wasn't a man of many words, but he could tell her in other ways.

They broke the kiss and he rested his forehead against hers, both of them slightly out of breath.

'They...' Henry whispered his tone wary. Mary smiled a small smile.

'Yes. I couldn't believe it either,' she whispered softly.

Henry captured her lips with his once more and both new parents looked down at the tiny bundles in Mary's arms.

'May I?' Henry asked, he'd only held one baby before and it wasn't for very long either - that was the Princess Mary.

Mary smiled, she was worried Henry wouldn't want anything to do with them until they are much older...but perhaps she was wrong.

She handed him his son.

'This is your daddy little man,' she whispered as she shifted the little ones to lie on her legs and picked up the little boy and handed him to Henry. She'd never seen so much emotion in the Kings face before and it was something she would always remember.

'And he's?' Henry whispered, as he took hold of his son for the first time and felt so much love for the little person in his arms.

'He's healthy and doing very well, as is your daughter. They're both well and healthy Henry, I promise you.' Mary saw the fear in his eyes and felt sorry for him having only witnessed mostly deaths from the babies he'd produced with the Queen.

She could understand his fear in some way.

'May I?' Henry asked, indicating the other baby in Mary's arms. She smiled and nodded gently giving him their daughter as well.

When Mary passed him his daughter for the first time Henry felt the same wave of love he felt for his son.

He gazed down at his son and daughter, awed at the tiny people in his arms. He'd helped create babies that were born alive and not dead.

Henry felt Mary lean against his shoulder and rested her head against it. He felt her left arm find its way through his right and her right hand rested on his lower right arm, as they both gazed down at the precious little bundles before them. **  
**

He did not know how long they were sat just gazing down at their new editions to the world, but they were brought out of it by a loud cry from a very little person; it startled them both.

Mary instinctively took hold of the baby girl and put her to her breast. Henry watched in awe as his daughter fed, he placed his son in Mary's arms when she instructed him to and watched both his newborns feed.

He'd never had the privilege of witnessing any of this when the Princess Mary was born; he'd never even held her as long as his new son and daughter.

Mary let him do things Katherine never did and he found King or not he liked being a part of his children's lives.

The next thing that happened shocked them both.

'Marry me.' Henry suddenly said, turning to look directly at a very shocked Mary, who'd totally forgotten the newborns in her arms as she stared at the King of England; the man behind the mask of the King she'd grown to love, the father of her children. She swore she heard wrong.

'Wh...what?' She gasped.

'Marry me.' Henry repeated more aware of what he was saying this time. He held her gaze showing her he was deadly serious.

It took all of Mary's will power to tear her gaze away from him, and turn her gaze back to the newborns in her arms. She felt Henry's warm hand take hold of her chin gently and turned her face, so she had to look at him and meet his gaze.

'I'm serious Mary. I married Katherine because I was selfish, young and a fool. She was my brother's wife and has been a thorn in my side ever since I said 'I do.' You've shown me the light, you've let me be me and given me more than any other woman has. Katherine treats me as though I'm still the little boy she met when she married my brother. You've let me be me, you've seen more than even Katherine herself has seen of me. You've seen me through the mask of a King. You see me for the man I am and not because of the crown on my head.' He paused taking a breath.

'If my past is a problem I promise to forsake all other woman. I did bed others when Katherine was pregnant, but I never have with you, something stopped me from doing so. I maybe King of England but I'm still a man and must do what I have to do for my country as King of England and Henry Fitzroyall, but Mary all I've ever wanted is a family and those chances have been taken from me because of Katherine's lies about supposedly not having consummated her marriage with my brother, I was fooled twice too many times.'

Mary had tears in her eyes as she listened to Henry open up to her. Henry gazed down at his newborns.

'I really want this with you Mary. I want to be a father to our children: to be the father I could never be to Princess Mary. I know I'm King of England and nothing can change that. I know people will be upset if I divorce Katherine, but it's something I'm willing to face if I have you and our children beside me. '

He stopped speaking and rested his forehead against hers, his thumbs brushing the tears away that fell from her eyes.

'Yes, yes a thousand times yes Henry I will marry you!' Mary choked through tears of happiness and Henry captured her lips with his once more.

A knock on the door some time later startled them both and the unwelcome visitor awoke the formerly sleeping babies. Instantly Henry put the mask up of the King of England, whilst Mary tended to the babies that yet had no name.

Henry recognised the knock as that of one of his guards and he walked to the door, opening it slowly in order to give Mary a chance to make herself decent; she was his after-all.

Mary felt unreal as she rearranged her son and daughter, pulling her night gown up, so whoever it was wouldn't have a display of her breasts. She knew Henry wouldn't like that and she was correct in thinking, as he glanced back to make sure she was covered up and the babies were settled.

Mary couldn't believe she was engaged _and to the King of England._ She had been sure his attention was focused more on Anne these days and she sometimes felt as though she was forgotten. It didn't matter that she knew of his plans: it didn't stop it hurting...but him asking her to marry him and him opening up meant more to her than anything.

Mary couldn't help but fear sometimes that Anne's poison would wash over Henry, the more time he spent with her. Completely lost in her thoughts and unaware of what was going on around her, gazing down at her babies, she jumped when she felt Henry's hand on her shoulder.

Henry only spoke when Mary met his gaze, after she recovered from her shock.

'They won't leave until they've seen you and the baby. They don't know about our son and daughter. I don't want them finding out about him just yet.' Pausing to wipe his brow he continued, 'The midwives' were dismissed after they said to the guards that you were well enough to leave the birthing chamber. They have also been silenced about the birth of our children and gender. The first midwife, the one that let me know the babies was a friend of my mother and fathers; she's been let in on some of my plans and can be trusted. She's gone to get some blankets for them, so we can move to my chambers in the Palace, where our son and daughter shall be more heavily guarded and protected.'

Mary just nodded, feeling overwhelmed because everything was happening at once.

'What happens now?' She whispered, gazing down at the little bundles in white blankets.

Henry moved to lift his daughter up in his arms and cradled her protectively, like any new father would.

'We wait for the midwife to return, the guard I spoke to passed on the message to my mother's friend who waited outside the chambers till she would be called back in once we'd finished in here or I take my leave. She'd come back in to assist you and help you with the babies, but things are different now, we are engaged and have two newborns instead of one. They're far too young, new and fragile to be introduced to the court and we weren't expecting two newborns - whom we have no names for yet.'

There was a knock on the door, the guard knock and Henry handed his daughter back to her mother and kissed Mary on the lips before he went back into King of England mode to answer the door.

Henry opened it wide enough for his head to poke through and found the Boleyn's and the Uncle still waiting outside, with more guards and his mothers, friend and a second Midwife.

He nodded for the midwives to come through and stepped out into the waiting chamber as they walked passed closing the door behind them, standing between his guards.

The Boleyn's and the Uncle Howard looked nervous and shifty. _Good!  
_

Henry shot them one of his looks, one that people were learning to fear. The only Boleyn that had the guts to come up to him and touch him was Anne.

'Henry?' She questioned in a sickly sweet false voice. He shrugged her off, not even looking at her.

'The baby and Mary shall be moved to my privy chambers where they will be well protected. I suggest you leave now and wait like the rest of the court to find out the gender of the baby. There will be an announcement when the baby is a week old. All you need to know is that Mother and baby are well and healthy.' Henry spoke in a tone that normally broke no reproach...of course there was always one.

'Your Majesty with all due respect, she's my sister, my mother and father's daughter and my Uncles niece. I think we have a right to know and see our sister/daughter and the baby.' Anne said confidently.

She then frowned, 'What do you mean my sister shall be in your privy chambers with the baby Henry?' She met his irritated gaze.

The room itself had dropped in temperature with every word she spoke and when her confident gaze met his he felt the ice berg start to crack.

'Miss Anne,' he said in a very controlled, tight voice. 'What it means is Mistress Carey and the baby will be moving in with me to my privy chamber and I don't see what rights you have questioning me. You are not my wife or mistress or have any ties to me except for Mary.'

The room temperature felt like ice, the type of ice that could cut through your skin.

'Bu-' Anne started.

'But nothing Miss Boleyn. Now either leave now, out of your own free will or be helped out of this chamber by my guards along with the rest of your fam-.' He didn't get a chance to finish what he was saying as she interrupted him, rushing up to him and pressing her body against his, her hands resting on his shoulders, her face looking up at him dramatically.

'But Henry, what about us? And all the plans we made? All those times we stayed up talking by the fire drinking wine whilst my sister was bidden to bed rest. How can you just forget all of those?' She had false tears streaming down her cheeks now.

Then she said the one thing that made him really angry after he grabbed hold of her wrists and pushed her off of him, he turned to face the window again.

'Did she give birth to our son Henry?' There were several shocked gasps from her family members.

He turned around, his face set in stone, angry, his eyes dangerously flashing, his body tense

'Our son?' he hissed, 'our son?' he took a step towards her. 'No you fool and you're a fool to even think I'd go through with your nasty little plans Miss Anne. I would never consent to stealing a baby boy or girl from its mother. I'm disgusted to actually think you'd take your own sisters son if she had a son just because he would be mine. You're lucky I don't send you to the block madam.'

Anne paled at the mention of the word block and jumped backwards away from him, as if she'd been stung.

Henry turned around and walked back into the birthing room to see if everyone was ready. He tried to squish his anger into a little box and keep it locked away, but Mary was astute and saw right through him.

'Your Majesty?' Mary called him by his title as she wasn't sure if she should call him Henry or not when there were other people around.

Henry's eyes took in the room before him. Mary had hold of his daughter, but his son was nowhere to be seen.

Mary picked up on the panicked look in his eyes as he glanced around the room.

'He's fine, your majesty.' Mary walked over to him and gently shifted their daughter so she could use her free arm/hand to tug Henry forwards. He seemed to get the picture and he let her take him to their son.

She led them to where the Midwife was. His son bundled in a blanket and being cradled in her arms.

'He's here.' Mary whispered softly.

Henry gazed down into the Midwife's arms and saw that she was right, under what looked like dirty/used blankets was his son, wrapped up nice and warm, all but hidden under from view. It looked like the nurse was just carrying dirty blankets out of the room.

If Mary hadn't of shown him where his son was. He wouldn't of known he was under there.

The babies seemed to have calmed down a lot and they were both sleeping soundly. As he looked at their peaceful faces Henry felt his anger slowly fade away.

He was pulled out of his thoughts or whatever zone he had sunk into by another knock from one of his guards at the door.

He nodded to the Midwife that was close to his mother and father and she went to answer it.

'Your majesty the guards say the coast is clear and they only had to threaten Miss Anne to leave.'

This got Mary's attention at the mention of her sister.

'What happened out there?' She asked surprised. She knew he came in angry, but for Anne and her family to be told to leave...they must have done something to really anger the King.

Henry just shook his head and offered Mary his arm. The Midwife had done well in going for white as the colour of blankets for the babies; nobody would be able to tell the difference about whether it's a boy or a girl in Mary's arm.

The babies' arrivals had timed themselves well. It was early morning before the majority of the servants were even up; the lowest of servants were up starting the fires. It had been a long labour and now it was late afternoon.

The court would be heading for the evening feast soon. When they reach his chambers he would send message with one of his guards to the Queen letting her know he wouldn't be joining her and the court this evening.

He meant what he said to Mary. He wanted to have the chance to be a proper father. He wanted to be a family man, as well as the King of England. To prove he could be a man, the man only Mary's seen, as well as doing his job as a Royal.

His children would have a better upbringing than the Princess Mary did. He wanted his new son and daughter to have the best, but not so strict as Katherine was with their daughter. Her upbringing may have been strict, but his wasn't completely strict.

He still had freedom in the royal house hold. He wasn't totally behind bars, and taught the way the Katherine was or as Mary is now.

No this was his chance to have the family he never had with Katherine!

This was his one last chance of happiness and nothing was going to ruin that or take them away from him. They may both be married but a few papers, some land and perhaps a few titles later would solve that situation.

If Katherine didn't like it then that was her problem. She shouldn't have lied about her not having consummated the marriage with his brother when she had. He shouldn't have been so foolish and selfish.

A saying he'd hear d awhile ago came to mind, 'Good things come to those who that wait.' That sounded so true to him right now.

Maybe it was his stars turn to shine...his and Mary's, both the younger children in families of power being over shadowed by the older siblings.

One thing was for certain, the Boleyn's had pushed one too many of his buttons and Anne... Anne was lucky he didn't send her to the tower for half the things she said and had supposedly planned to put into action in the future.

He didn't know for sure what to do with them yet, but he had a few things up his sleeve and he was so looking forward to the genders of his children being revealed, it was going to hit the Boleyn's hard across the face, like being hit by a jousting stick with out any armour on.

**To Be Continued**

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